


My Favorite Place To Be Is the One Where You're Next to Me

by asuninside



Category: Glee
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Making Out, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 19:45:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asuninside/pseuds/asuninside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Kurt makes Blaine come is an accident.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Favorite Place To Be Is the One Where You're Next to Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is my re-imagining of Blaine and Kurt's first "I love you" in the season two finale. It also happens to coincide with their first time getting each other off.

The first time Kurt makes Blaine come is an accident. It’s a warm Thursday afternoon and they have the house to themselves. Carole is in Columbus shopping with friends, Burt is at the garage, and Finn is at Puck’s house doing something involving video games and probably yelling. The point is, for once, they are blissfully alone.

They’re on Kurt’s bed fully clothed and kissing. They haven’t done anything more than that yet – even though Blaine desperately wants to know what Kurt looks like all the way shirtless, he is a teenage boy, after all, but he doesn’t want to push because they’ve only been together a few months and Blaine wants to take things slow, to make sure Kurt is 110% comfortable with anything and everything they do together. Kurt is this precious thing who just showed up in Blaine’s life one day unannounced and started commandeering a higher percentage of his daily thoughts than was probably normal considering how long it took for Blaine to actually realize his feelings and do something about them. He cares for him _so much_ and he absolutely cannot screw this up.

So they’re just kissing, kneeling on the royal purple duvet that covers Kurt’s queen sized mattress, hands clasped between them. Blaine loves holding Kurt’s hands when they kiss. He wants to be as close as he can at all times, touching him everywhere that is both possible and appropriate. Sometimes, well, most times if he’s honest, Blaine wants to tuck his hand into the top of Kurt’s waistband, curl his fingers into whatever expensive denim he has on that day and brush against his skin just to feel him. He doesn’t though, of course he doesn’t.

Blaine wouldn’t try anything more with Kurt without talking to him about it first. Whenever he has the urge to go further he forces himself back to the day, god it seems so long ago, when he tried to talk to Kurt about sex. He remembers the discomfort apparent in his face and body language. How he’d blushed and shut down. Blaine doesn’t ever want to make Kurt look like that again so he keeps his hands firmly in Kurt’s, squeezing their interlaced fingers together gently with each press of lips.

They had started off slow and languid; no need to rush when the day was so pleasant and the house was so _empty_. Blaine sometimes likes to imagine in these rare occurrences, that they live here all alone, that no doors will eventually slam open, no call of “I’m home!”will come from Carole or Burt or Finn. That they’ll just kiss and kiss without a care in the world and eventually fall asleep holding each other in _their_ bed. Despite all Kurt’s talk about being the hopeless romantic in their relationship, Blaine sometimes thinks he could give him a run for his money where sappy daydreams are concerned.

Kurt is settled comfortably across from Blaine, leaning in again and again, punctuating each kiss with his tongue; wet and warm and _god_ , Blaine loves this. He can’t believe his life, his _luck_ in landing someone so perfect. Presently, said someone is leaning so far forward into Blaine’s personal space that his chest is pressed against Blaine’s and he shivers a little from the added contact. Kurt begins to pepper kisses down Blaine’s jaw and he leans against Kurt, just feeling him. He nips lightly at the soft skin by Blaine’s ear and heat moves through him, warm and slow like syrup. Something feels out of place though. He realizes suddenly that he is painfully hard. That’s not exactly a new sensation but then- oh. _Oh_. Kurt has somehow rearranged his legs and is practically in his lap, oh god, Kurt is _straddling_ his lap.

“Kurt?” he squeaks. Kurt’s tongue abruptly ceases its slow journey down Blaine’s neck.

“Um, is this, okay?” he asks, sounding a little bewildered and a little concerned.

Breathe. He can do this. Think about dying puppies. Think about losing regionals. Think about- Blaine’s inner mantra is cut short by Kurt’s voice, pitched higher than before, saying, “Blaine?” with definite concern now, and oh. He asked Blaine a question.

Blaine nods and says, a bit breathlessly, “Yeah, yes, it’s okay.”

Kurt visibly relaxes and leans forward again. Blaine reaches up and winds his fingers into Kurt’s hair, relishing in it. He isn’t allowed to do it often because he learned early on that, for relatively short hair, a lot of work goes into making it look as good as it does. Kurt makes a pleased noise into Blaine’s mouth and begins to suck on his tongue, slick and stretching it out and wow, if Blaine thought he was hard before, he is probably tenting his chinos right now and things have the potential to get very awkward very fast.

“Kurt,” Blaine says, a little frantic. With a herculean effort he wrenches his mouth away, “I think it might be best if we take some time to-” but before he can get out the words “cool off” two things happen in rapid succession. Kurt angles himself down to press his mouth hotly to Blaine’s neck and in doing so, shifts very slightly in his lap applying a whole lot of unintentional pressure to Blaine’s dick. Blaine makes a sound halfway between a gasp and a moan and comes, hips jerking up erratically, mind going hazy and vision whiting out. It feels like he’s been pushed underwater and is drowning in sensation.

He surfaces, panting and opens his eyes, trying to gather his bearings. He almost immediately wishes he hadn’t. Kurt is still straddling him, seeming unable to move, eyes wide as saucers. Blaine glances down at his pants, which are wet at the crotch, and then back up at Kurt, and the gravity of what just happened hits him with the force of a freight train.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Blaine hisses, the profanity tumbling out before he can stop it. He claps a hand over his mouth, horrified. _Where did that come from?_ Kurt’s cheeks instantly darken crimson in a blush and Blaine _hates_ himself, _god_. He’s supposed to be a gentleman in every possible situation, and he is, except apparently the one that really, really matters; adding insult to injury by both acting and speaking like the immature teenage boy he tries so hard not to be. He feels his own cheeks go sun-hot, face probably even redder than Kurt’s. He hangs his head shamefacedly. “Kurt- I am so, so sorry, I- didn’t mean to- to make you uncomfortable, I was trying to tell you we needed to stop, I-”

“Blaine,” Kurt says, cutting him off. His voice is firm, if a little breathless, and he doesn’t _sound_ angry. Blaine looks up a hesitantly, unable to meet Kurt’s eyes for more than a moment before glancing away. _Congratulations Anderson_ , Blaine thinks bitterly, _you’re about to become a single man_. But then Kurt is taking his hand and saying, in a voice even higher than usual, “I did that. To you. I made you- I never thought-” he sounds _awed_. At his tone, Blaine chances a glance back up at Kurt to find that his features have rearranged into a smile and his blush has dimmed down to a glowing sunset pink.

“Kurt?” Blaine asks, a little uncertain. “You’re not…upset?”

Kurt’s brow furrows a little. “Upset?” Blaine wonders whether Kurt’s bedroom door is actually a rabbit hole and he’s in an alternate reality.

“For- I-” he stammers.

Kurt’s face suddenly clicks in understanding. “Oh!” He squeezes Blaine’s hand. “Blaine, it’s, you couldn’t- it’s fine!” Blaine stares at him. Kurt stares right back. This cannot be his boyfriend, Kurt Hummel. This is some Wonderland Crazy Town comfortable-with-making-his-significant-other-come-in-his-pants Kurt Hummel.

“What?” Kurt asks, a little defensively.

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” Blaine says. He’s beginning to feel slightly irrational. “I thought, you- we- weren’t ready for anything like that. I mean-” he runs a hand through his hair, frustrated that Kurt is just staring at him bemusedly. “I thought we were taking this slow.”

Kurt shakes his head, still looking amused. “We’ve been taking it slow for months, Blaine. I-” he ducks his head a little and mumbles.

Blaine leans forward and cups Kurt’s chin back up. “What did you say?” Kurt’s blush returns in full force. “I said. I said that I like that I can do that to you and I wouldn’t mind if you-“ he coughs delicately, and now he’s the one avoiding Blaine’s eye. Blaine’s mind, which has run the gamut of emotions in the past ten minutes, starts to quiet; the embarrassment and confusion fading as a smile begins grow on his face.

“If I,” he prompts gently, hoping, _praying_ , that he knows what Kurt’s about to say.

“Ifyouwantedtoreciprocate,” Kurt says in a rush. Blaine thinks his smile might break his face in half if he’s not careful.

“You want- really, Kurt?” Kurt tries to bury his face in his hands but Blaine reaches out and pulls them away. “Hey,” he says, “hey, no. Don’t be embarrassed I’m pretty sure we’ve had enough of that for one day. He looks pointedly down at his lap and hears Kurt’s stifled giggle. _Successfully turning what is arguably the most mortifying experience in your life_ (okay, second most mortifying, because he is never going to live down the Gap Attack, ever) _into a way to make Kurt laugh. Score a point for Blaine Anderson._

He looks back up at Kurt and Kurt is looking at him warmly, with something in his eyes that Blaine can’t place. When he speaks, he sounds more confident than before. “I-” he takes a deep breath, “Yes. I really want that. Not, not everything, not yet, but I- I love you.”

Blaine’s breath catches in his throat. He feels this, this _rapturous_ warmth flooding through him, and he wonders if it’s possible for somebody to actually die of happiness. He thinks his eyes might be a little wet, and okay, that’s embarrassing, but he absolutely could not care less right now and- oh. Oh right. He interlaces their fingers together and says, “I love you too, Kurt. More than anything.”

Kurt’s smile’s so wide that it’s like the sky at dawn, like Blaine can feel the joy radiating from him. He leans in and kisses Kurt as sweetly as he knows how. Kurt’s eyes flutter closed and he reaches out blindly to grip Blaine’s shoulders. Blaine doesn’t resist, instead allowing himself to fall back against the pillows with an easy movement. He gets lost in the feel of kissing Kurt, the taste of him, and the warmth of his chest pressed flush against his own. Kurt is just applying his mouth to curve of Blaine’s clavicle when he suddenly remembers that Kurt _wants Blaine to touch him_. Oh god. Blaine gets to- he draws in a sharp breath. Kurt stops mouthing at Blaine’s neck and peers up at him.

“Are you- are you okay?”

Blaine lets out the breath and smiles down at him. “So okay,” he whispers. “Never better, actually.” He reaches his hand down between them and slides it down, down, until- oh. _Oh_. His heart is hammering a quick staccato in his chest, but he can’t _not_. He steels himself and presses his palm, feather-light, against Kurt. Kurt makes a tiny noise halfway between a squeak and a gasp and Blaine can barely _breathe_ because the only thing separating his hand from Kurt’s dick is a few layers of fabric. “Is this-?” he whispers.

“Yes,” Kurt breathes. Blaine moves his hand experimentally and Kurt’s gasp is louder this time.

“B-Blaine,” he says, hips stuttering against Blaine’s he rocks into the touch. His eyes are shut and his mouth is open and pearly pink and Blaine can’t believe that this is his life. He surges up to kiss Kurt, still rubbing him through his jeans. The kiss is hard and sloppy, and god, Kurt’s tongue. He feels fever-hot inside and out and he pulls his mouth away, breathing harshly, hand never ceasing its movement. “Blaine,” Kurt says again, urgently, “I’m close, I- _ah_.”

Blaine sees the moment that Kurt comes, his eyes squeezed shut, color high in his cheeks. _He’s beautiful_ , Blaine thinks. _The most beautiful boy in the world and he’s mine_. He wants to laugh or cry or maybe burst into song with the absurdity of it all. Kurt collapses on top of him, shaking, and Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt, just hugs him with all his strength, and whispers, “Next fall I’m transferring to McKinley. Kurt raises his head from Blaine’s shoulder and his eyes, like planets in cerulean seas, are so full of love that Blaine knows he’s made the right decision. Gently, he pushes Kurt’s head back down to rest on his chest. _I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, Kurt Hummel. I’m never saying goodbye._ It’s the last thought he knows before they’re both asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahoy there! This is my first klaine fic ever and while I know it's far from perfect, I am wildly excited to share it with the fandom. This piece was beta-ed by the lovely imfeelinghellagood.
> 
> Feedback is much appreciated because I'm thinking about a sequel already and would love to know how my writing/characterization is received.


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